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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122360">Parting Words</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anistarrose/pseuds/anistarrose'>anistarrose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Forduary, Forduary 2020, Gen, basically a 50/50 mix of Ford being contemplative and being passive-aggressive, letter format</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:14:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anistarrose/pseuds/anistarrose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Weirdmageddon, Ford writes Bill a letter.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bill Cipher &amp; Ford Pines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Parting Words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">

        <li>
          Translation into Español available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880340">Palabras de despedida</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlmightySand/pseuds/TheAlmightySand">TheAlmightySand</a>
        </li>


    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An extremely late submission to Forduary Week 2: Trust/Paranoia. I got this idea about a year ago and apparently forgot all about it until yesterday.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>August 30th, 2012</em>
</p>
<p>To the late Bill Cipher:</p>
<p>You will not be missed.</p>
<p>On account of the circumstances under which Stanley killed you, I wasn’t able to share any direct parting words, as it would have obviously revealed our con. This doesn’t rank especially high on my list of regrets — for example, all the individual times I <em>could</em> have spat in your face but failed to do so rank much higher — but it is a regret nonetheless, hence this letter. It’s not quite the same as calling you an arrogant little brat in person, but it will have to suffice.</p>
<p>Stan is doing well, by the way — certainly far better than you. Thanks to Mabel’s stubborn optimism and scrapbooking enthusiasm, he’s made almost a complete recovery. Though some of the details of Weirdmageddon still elude him, I trust that he shared some choice words and a solid left hook with you when the two of you clashed in his mindscape. I’ve seen him get in enough schoolyard fights with cruel, childish, overconfident bullies to know how these things usually go.</p>
<p>But that reminds me, Bill — I’ve been learning some things about trust that I’d like to tell you about. </p>
<p>I was a fool for trusting you, for allowing myself to become a pawn in your scheme, and the blame for accepting your deal lies solely in my own hands. This is no novel realization.</p>
<p>But only within this past week have I began to think about just how much that decision to trust you has skewed my view of trust ever since. </p>
<p>Your betrayal drove me to paranoia; I saw your eyes everywhere I looked. To this day, I still don’t know if you really did manifest in the truck stop, or if it was all a sleep-deprived hallucination.</p>
<p>But you were planting the seeds of distrust even earlier than the reveal of your true nature. You told me that Fiddleford lacked the resolve to follow through with our experiment, and so I kept my secrets away from him and ignored his warnings. He could have foiled your plans, but you knew this — and because you’d seen my memories and nightmares, because you knew how protective I was of my inventions and how paranoid I was about treachery disrupting my research, you knew what to tell me to effectively take Fiddleford out of the picture before we ever openly argued.</p>
<p>Earlier still, you told me I was single greatest mind of the century, that you had chosen to inspire me because of my unmatched intellect — and I bought into that lie without a second thought.</p>
<p>The implication was that everyone else was lesser, not worth my time. Less consciously and more subtly, I bought into that, too. </p>
<p>Even as my self-esteem plummeted like Icarus falling from the sky, even as I regretted every choice that had led me to my current lot in life, that internalized implication stubbornly persisted. “Being a genius means being alone” evolved into “being a hero means being alone.” You said genius happened with occasional help from a friend; my definition of heroism had no such addendum. Friends were vulnerabilities, and confidants were potential backstabbers.</p>
<p>In my mind, I was Achilles, and trust had been the weak spot on my heel. I resolved to never expose that weakness again, except for in the most dire of situations, and it took me far too long to realize how that resolve had been to my own detriment.</p>
<p>Because of you, I spent so many years afraid and alone. I now know that I <em>made</em> myself alone, with my own self-isolating choices — but all too often, they were choices that <em>you</em> conditioned me to make. </p>
<p>I will not, and should not, absolve myself of my deserved share of blame for the apocalypse. But I will not, and I should not, forget that <em>far</em> more of that blame lies with <em>you</em>.</p>
<p>It’s thanks to my family that I’ve been able to recognize all this. It’s <em>especially</em> thanks to Stanley. </p>
<p>He saved the world, and he didn’t do it alone. He is more of a hero than I had ever believed that I could be. He is a liar, and a charlatan, and an identity thief — and despite all this, I trust him unconditionally.</p>
<p>I’m not worried about you coming back, Bill. Stan’s memories have returned, but I don’t think you’ll return with them — because I trust Stan not to let that happen. I <em>know</em> that he is stronger than you, and I <em>trust</em> that he’d never let you out of his mindscape unscathed.</p>
<p>Which brings me to the point of this letter, really. I could (and in the past, I have) hurled expletives into the void, hoping you’ll hear them wherever you are — but today, I have something I want you to know.</p>
<p>I want you to know that I am no longer the isolated, paranoid wreck of a man that you made of me. There are some things you did that I may still take years to recover from, but today, I am surrounded by friends and family new and old, and I trust them all completely.</p>
<p>You are no longer my Muse, Bill. And I am no longer your pawn.</p>
<p>My family and I will be celebrating your death this evening. I would call it your funeral, but that implies a certain degree of both respect and grief, two emotions that no Pines has ever felt towards you.</p>
<p>At Dipper’s suggestion, I’ll be tossing my journals into the Bottomless Pit — but this letter will be going straight into a fire once I’m done writing. I think it has the best chance of reaching you that way.</p>
<p>You’ve never been quite as restrained by linear time as humans are, after all. So maybe there’s a chance these words could still reach you in your dying moments — and if they don’t, it’ll be alright with me. You will know you’re dying and I will know you’re dead, and that’s the important thing.</p>
<p>I would tell you to enjoy hell, but I don’t think that’s quite where you’re headed. Instead, enjoy erasure from existence, leaving behind a world that has bounced back from the havoc you wreaked on it. Enjoy knowing that all your plans to raze our dimension have been for naught. Enjoy knowing that your pawn is free of you, and has learned to trust again. Enjoy knowing that this will be your legacy.</p>
<p>This is Stanford Pines, happily bidding you farewell forever. </p>
<p>P.S.<br/>Pdbeh qrz brx’yh ohduqhg vrphwklqj derxw wuxvw dqg orqholqhvv, wrr.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading, comments/<a href="https://anistarrose.tumblr.com/post/612425776632119296/parting-words-forduary-week-2-trust">reblogs</a> welcomed as always!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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